Just a Shade darker
by WillVanry
Summary: Ten years pass. A prophecy shatters, and Eragon returns to Alagaësia. But is it really him? His skin is too pale, and his hair and glowing eyes are a bloody crimson. The Shadeslayer himself has become a Shade. Despite that, he still has a grip on himself, but it's slipping and he needs someone to catch him before he falls. Future OOC Eragon-Shade AU (Discontinued, up for adoption)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: the Inheritance Cycle is owned by Christopher Paolini. This story is of my own design, and is in no way canon.**

Author's Note: Hey guys, it's me, William. You know what? I shouldn't even have said that this is "of my own design". I just took an idea that was given to me and made it my own, but all the credit for the idea goes to my little sister. She's only eight, by the way. So... yeah. That's a thing. In all honesty, she's smarter than me. Sad but true.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the product of someone else's imagination, because I sure have.

 **Just a Shade darker**

 **Chapter 1: A surprise too terrible to want**

Ten years. An entire decade since Eragon had left behind the land he loved so much, never to return.

Arya would never admit it to anyone but Fírnen, her dragon, but she had grown fond of the boy's presence. Now that he was no longer around, she missed him even more every day.

Well to be fair to the elven queen, Eragon had gone missing almost exactly a year ago. Not even his blue-tinted dragon Saphira could find him. Oh, and the recent sightings of a new Shade did nothing to alleviate the increasing worry she felt.

Arya felt as though she would explode like one of King Orrin's experiments if she kept the stress bottled up any longer, so she-

"MY QUEEN!" A young elf burst into the hall shouting, knocking the doors aside with a deafening THUD. "My queen, he's been spotted again, but he's in the forest and past the barrier!"

Arya jumped to her feet. "Tell me, who has?" she commanded, already making her way to the door. "Eragon or the Shade?!"

"The Shade, my liege!" the youth replied hastily.

Arya burst through the open doorway, and shouted with her mind _"Fírnen, to me!"_

A moment later, she was snatched by a glittering emerald paw, and from there deposited in the saddle on the back of her enormous dragon. They melded minds to the point where distinction between them was nearly impossible.

After learning the Shade was on the Crags of Tel'naeír , they sped off in pursuit.

If there's one thing elves don't tolerate, it's intuders. But Arya wasn't a normal elf, and the intruder in question was far from normal: She was the queen of the elves, and he was a Shade - an incarnation of pure chaos, rage, and evil.

* * *

The moment Fírnen landed, Arya unsheathed her sword, Támerlein, and leapt to the ground.

"Show yourself, monster!" she yelled out into the grove. "I know you're here!"

A soft, echoing chuckle sounded from inside Oromis' hut. "Monster, am I?" inquired the hollow-sounding voice. "Fine. I'll reveal myself. But you might not find me as 'monstrous' as you so clearly believe. Oh, and the name's Aeon."

Soft, almost silent footsteps made their way to the open door, and a figure appeared in the doorway. Arya decided that now was the best time to study the Shade's attire. It wasn't all that different from traveling clothes, but they weren't what caught her eye; on the Shade's hip rested a sapphire Rider's blade. The name set into the sheath was the true name of fire, Brisingr.

"Where did you get that sword?!" Arya yelled at the demon before her. "Who did you kill to get it?!"

To her surprise, the Shade called Aeon took a shocked step back.

"K-kill?" he stammered. "I would never k-kill for such petty things as a sword!"

"That voice..." Arya mumbled. "No... It couldn't be... Step into the light so I can see your face!"

With two quick strides, the man-turned-monster left the shielding protection of the shadows.

Arya fell to her knees so hard that she knew they would bruise, but she completely ignored that. "No..." The broken whisper tore from her throat as she registered what she saw.

His hair was spiked and scarlet, and his eyes glowed a sickening, bloody red. His skin was whiter than the marble city of Tronjheim. All of these changes couldn't mask the man he once was. From the scar on his left collarbone from eight years ago, to the way that he walked. Only when Arya looked into his eyes did she realize that her worst fears had come true.

It was no monster standing before her, but the one she missed so much. Tall and handsome, stood Eragon.

And he was a Shade.

* * *

 **A/N: That was surprisingly one of my favorite chapters to write so far. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, despite how short it was. Please leave a comment to let me know how you felt about the Shade concept so I can figure out where to go from here.**

 **Thanks,**

 **WillVanry.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The Inheritance Cycle is owned by Christopher Paolini. This story is of my own design, and is in no way canon**

A/N: So, all reviews so far are positive. To be completely honest with you guys, I was planning on taking it down after a week, but now I feel obligated to write more. Finding the time to do it though… that's pretty tough.

Anyway, CHAPTER 2!

 **Just a Shade darker**

 **Chapter 2: A new name**

Barely fifteen feet away from Arya stood a man who most believed dead.

Eragon was as still as a statue, showing no sign of moving, so Arya took the opportunity to study him.

He was much taller than when he left for Vroengard; he now stood more than a foot taller than Arya. His shoulders were much broader, and his tight-fitting shirt did little to hide his muscular frame. In other words, he had become a man.

Since when had she started to think like that? Sure, his face was quite pleasing, despite the large scar that started at the corner of his mouth and trailed down his neck. His minor flaws made him even more perfect. And his body was-

Fírnen nudged Arya with the tip of his snout, which tore her from thoughts of Eragon's physique.

 ** _Little_ _one, do not allow your mind to wander._** he warned. **_The Shade plays dirty, because you knew the man it once was._**

Arya sighed. _Thank you, Fírnen. I did let my mind wander for a moment. Though I hate it when you leave, I need you to go get the other Riders that are in Ellesméra right now._

 _ **No!** _heroared. _**I w**_ ** _ill not leave you with this… this THING that we once called 'friend'!_**

 _I need to find out what happened, but I need other Riders at my side now!_

Begrudgingly, Fírnen poked Arya one last time before turning, spreading his wings, and leaping off the edge of the cliff.

An intense wave of pressure suddenly crashed down on Arya the moment Fírnen was gone, and the Shade tore through her mental walls like they didn't even exist. A string of words flowed into Arya's mind and she gasped. The words were Eragon's name, his True Name. It had changed drastically since the last time she heard it; the name was filled with so much pain and suffering that tears stung her eyes, but it still held on to so much of Eragon's love for her that there was no doubt it was truly him.

Arya had already dropped to her knees, so she didn't have far to fall when she fainted.

* * *

He saw the exact moment when Arya started to collapse, so he ran over and caught her just before she hit the ground.

So, _young prince, what will you do now?_ The voice was smooth, but it had a ripple-like effect that was more than a little hypnotic.

Eragon growled at the voice in his head. "Be silent, Durza. I have no need of your distracting chatter."

 _Very well, young prince._

"And don't call me that!" he yelled, but the presence was already gone. Ignoring how angry the spirit made him, Eragon picked Arya up and stood. Then he vaulted off the edge of the cliff. When he was almost to the ground, he whispered "Vëoht" and he landed on the grass gently.

"Off to Rhunon's forge, I guess." he groaned. "She's the only one who wouldn't try to kill me with the first chance she gets."

* * *

 **A/N: So yeah. I have little to no time to write during the week, with school and other shit. Over the weekend, I have some time on the weekends, but it's not that much. I'm surprised I could write this in the time that I did, so… yay for me, I guess?**

 **I really don't have a general idea of where the story should go, so if any of you have ideas for it, let me know. We'll talk a bit.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **WillVanry.**

* * *

 **P.S.- this story won't have a regular update time. Thought I ought to let you know.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The Inheritance Cycle is owned by Christopher Paolini. This story is of my own design And is in no way Canon.**

A/N: Hey guys, it's me. I haven't been able to write in a while, and I'm sorry about that. I just got really sick and my little sister forbade me to write while I was recovering. Anyway, I can write again!

 **Just a Shade darker**

 **Chapter 3: A Doubt**

Arya woke from a restless sleep in a bet that wasn't hers. She recognized the room (From the lack of decoration, as well as the ringing of hammered metal on the floor below) as the one above Rhunon's forge.

Arya tried to stand, but pain shot through her mind. The pain brought with it a sudden lack of equilibrium, and she fell back onto the bed. She tried again when the pain had fully faded, and managed to walk to the door before it swung open and revealed Rhunon standing in the doorway.

"A fine morning, isn't it my queen?" the old smith chuckled sarcastically.

Arya raised a brow questionably, and looked out the window to see a very bright afternoon. "Fine it may be, but it's no longer morning."

Then a thought suddenly came to her. "Rhunon, if you're up here, who's making all that noise downstairs in the forge?"

"Come and see for yourself." the elder woman said smiling.

Thinking that the ancient elf was acting a little too pleasant today, Arya belted on her green sword, Tamerlein, and warily followed Rhunon down the stairs.

The bell-like sound of metal striking metal drew the queen's gaze towards the blazing forge, where a silhouetted man was drawing out a sizable piece of white-hot steel. He was wearing a pair of white leather pants that were rolled halfway up his shins to reveal a pair of knee-high blue metal boots. His lack of shirt made it easy to see the hard, lean muscles rippling in his scarred arms and hairless chest.

His reddish-brown eyes were a mix of focused and relaxed, calm but intense. His hair, however, truly startled Arya. Spiky hair the color of old blood clearly held onto the last vestiges of his inner Shade.

Before she could stop herself, Arya tore her sword from it's scabbard and thrust the green blade through his heart. Or, at least she tried to. The tip of her sword stopped a hair's breadth from his skin.

"For someone who knows exactly how dangerous Shades are, that was a fairly stupid move, Arya."  
Arya recoiled at the sound of his voice. It was so much like the Eragon that she knew, but just different enough to remind her of what he had become.

"Really, now. What I've become? You wound me with such inconsiderate words."

"Get out of my head!" Arya shouted. She was absolutely livid about how the thing that used to be her dearest friend had penetrated her mental barrier so easily.

The Shade cocked his head to the side, as though listening to something in the air, then looked into Arya's eyes and said in the ancient language "Arya, I am no imposter. I am, in both body and mind, Eragon." Then he turned back to the steel on the anvil and began to work the metal again.

"If you are Eragon, then how are you a Shade?" Arya asked in complete confusion.

It wasn't Eragon who answered, but Rhunon.  
"He is the last true descendant of the Gray Folk. The Shade's spirits don't effect him like they would other humans." she said, a sparkle in her eye.

Arya's mind was reeling from shock and confusion, but she pushed it aside. She needed answers, and she was going to get them, no matter what.  
"Eragon, tell me how this-" She motioned to his body as to imply his transformation, "-happened. What spell were you dense enough to be playing around with?"

Eragon chuckled, but it was an empty, mirthless one. "This isn't like what happened with me creating another form of War Magic."  
 **(This was a reference to the unhealed scars on his cheek and arms)**  
"It's more complicated than that. Arya, what day do you think it is?"

Arya had to think for a moment, but she finally remembered. "Exactly a year since you dissapeared!"

"And exactly ten years since I ran Zar'roc through Durza's heart." Eragon said, nodding.  
He glanced at Rhunon meaningfully, and the old smith took over the anvil as Eragon stepped away.

Arya sighed deeply. "I'm listening. Explain how this happened."

* * *

 **Okay. That's done. I'm planning to put a flashback in the next chapter, and like I said before, I'll welcome any ideas or motivation!**

 **Signing off,**

 **WillVanry.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The Inheritance Cycle is owned by Christopher Paolini. This story is of my own design And is in no way Canon.**

A/N: This chapter was written by leaning heavily on my "little" sister, OtherFrost, so most of the credit for this chapter should go to her.

 **Just a Shade darker**

 **Chapter 4: An Explanation**

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

Eragon didn't move for a few seconds, then gave Arya a lopsided grin. "Well, little queen-"

"And why do you insist on calling me that?" Arya interrupted.

Eragon chuckled. "The young princes' body is simply larger than you, so you seem small to us. That is all."

"Who is this 'young prince' you mention?" Arya asked out of curiosity. The question would burn in her mind until it was answered, so she decided to ask it.

Eragon's crooked grin suddenly vanished, and the red glow that had been gradually building had went out like a candle in a storm. "Aeon is referring to me. that cheeky bastard is annoying to no end. Also wastes time like nothing else."

Arya flinched at the sudden change in tone, and realized the speech pattern had switched as well.

"Well," Eragon continued, "I believe I was about to tell you how 'this' happened, correct? It would be easier to show you."

A strange, disjointed mental presence pressed against the boundaries of Arya's mind, and she instantly threw up the strongest defenses she could muster.

Eragon's smile returned, but instead of the uneven, sarcastic one, it was a sad, grimacing imitation of a smile. "Arya, I have little time as it is.. I need help, and every moment you waste is an irreversible moment lost."

Arya heard the truth in his voice, and dropped her mental walls. She allowed the warped mind send her images, memories, and emotions, but she decided to dive too deep into the memories and got sucked in.

* * *

 _"Lavera, I need to go."_

 _The petite elf gave me an adorable pout. It was similar to what I'd seen in memories: female humans do it when they don't want their lover to leave, but it worked better because I'd never seen an elf as pretty as her do it._

 _"Don't worry, 'Vera." I said, stroking her cheek. "I promise, I'll be back." I got out of bed, walked over to the pile of clothes on the floor, and sorted out my clothes from the elf's, putting on the male garments as I found them. I took Brisingr from the coathook on the wall and strapped it to my waist. "Look, you wanted to keep this from the other Riders, so I need to leave before anyone else wakes up."_

 _Lavera sighed. "No, you're right. I guess you should go."_

 _I smiled at her. Then I went over to the polished silver mirror and tried to un-mess my hair. My eyes kept being drawn to the jagged line that started on the left side of my lower lip and trailed down my jaw and neck, and disappeared into my shirt where it spread across the left side of my chest like the cracked glaze on a piece of pottery. One of the many scars I either couldn't heal (because of the experimental magics involved) or decided to keep (because of the memories and lessons they held)._

 _"If you really need to find me, you know how." I told Laveria. "Right now, I need to run until my lungs feel like they're killing me."_

 _After a quick wink and a little chuckle, I silently slipped from the elf's room. And I ran._

 _I ran until my lungs really did feel as though they were trying to kill me. When I stopped running, I realized that I was in the barren courtyard where I had first found my true name._ **Huh.** _I thought_ _._ **Ironic. I know my name has changed since then, so I guess this is a better place than any to find it again.** _I climbed up the very same crumbling spire to sit exactly like I had nearly nine years earlier. And I thought. Just like I had, nine years prior, and tried to sum up my very existence into a few phrases. Though it was quite difficult, I finally found my name again. I realized something about myself._

 _I looked down at my bare arms again, truly studying the intersecting scars that lined them, and I just collapsed inwardly. I hadn't healed any of my removable scars because I didn't want to. Not because of the lessons I thought I'd learned by keeping them, but because I didn't think myself worthy of being whole again. Because I wasn't whole without an elf in my life, and that's what drew me to Lavera; not her beauty, not her charm, but because she was a green-eyed, black-haired elf. Like Arya._ _The name burned in my mind as it surfaced for the first time in two years, but I barely had time to think._

 _I heard chanting from below, in the courtyard. I looked down and there were at least fifty cloak-clad people surrounding my pillar, reciting the same spell across the entire group. Whirls of pulsating energy sprung into existence, and I recognized them as spirits. Not ghosts, the kind that people tell fictional stories about, but spirits - the kind that made up the amalgamated personalities of Shades. After an initial moment of fatal hesitation, I_ _attempted to create a defensive barrier between me and them, but found my magic slipping away. The orbs rushed at me the moment I tried using magic, and they turned into wisps of vapor the moment they hit my skin. The vapor then found it's way to my face and forced it's way into my mouth, filling my lungs. It felt as though a mad god had poured liquid fire down my throat, as well as directly into my veins. As the last of the vapor disappeared, my vision went completely white, then faded to black. When the last of the greyish tinge had left my vision, I heard a warped, echoing voice whispering in my ear. "Hello, young prince. Welcome to your salvation."_

 _As the last of the echoing faded, my mind returned to me. But I wasn't alone._

 **Give us a name.** _The voice was rasping and high-pitched, but smooth and deep as well. A cacophony of a hundred echoing voices was tearing my head apart._ **Give us a name!**

 _I screamed. A word surfaced, and I used it._ ASONGKAYA!

 _The voices were quiet for a while, and then only one of them spoke._ **You gave us a name. Now we shall give you a title.**

And what would that title be? I _shouted into the abyss surrounding me._

 **Aeon. You are a demon of Time itself.**

 _I woke up and sat bolt-upright, gasping for air. "I need_ _to get off this island, now!"_

 _I tore the sheets off my near-naked body and kicked open the door. I was expecting a clean getaway. I was NOT expecting six armed and armored, fully graduated Riders, ant their dragons to boot. Well, time for plan B._

 _I drew upon the ever-increasing stores of energy in my possession, be it the sapphires in Brisingr's pommel and Aren, the diamonds in my belt, or the earrings I decided to get just for the heck of it, and cast a form of magic I had only used a few times before, while training with Oromis; I transported myself instantaneously. Well, the place I showed up in was exactly as I remembered it. I was in Vrael's wooden tower._

* * *

Arya tore herself from the memory, panting from the mental strain. Eragon was holding her in his arms, looking down at her with such a worried face that she forgot herself for a moment, but recovered. "Eragon, I'm fine. Let me go."

Eragon's look of worry faded, and left behind an unreadable slate. "You saw it, didn't you?"

It wasn't phrased as a question that needed an answer, but Arya nodded anyway.

Eragon groaned in annoyance. "You weren't supposed to see that." he said. His arms tightened around Arya's slim figure for a moment, then released his grip and lowered her to her feet and fell to his knees in front of her, tears spilling from his eyes. "I feel disgusted by what I've become. I don't know how you can stand to even look at me."

"It's because you are a good person, Eragon." Arya said, bending down to kiss his forehead. "I don't pretend to understand how this happened, and I won't hide the fact that what has been done to you disgusts me, but you're inherently a better person than most. So I'm going to help you, even if it kills us both in the process."

* * *

 **A/N: Well, for all of you who say that my chapters are too short, here you go. This chapter is 1,559 words long. The longest yet. You're welcome.**

 **Leave a review, tell me your thoughts, and help me make this story better.**


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